|Henry McCoy (mccoysluck) wrote in utr_logs,|
@ 2008-10-13 16:10:00
|Entry tags:||anya lehnsherr, henry mccoy|
Who: Hank and Anya
What: Coming to pick her up after her loss
Where: The school, home, unknown.
Hank drove swiftly, and carefully, and with all speed, not wanting Anya to have to wait. She had been at the school when she got the call, and he felt bad, already, for not being there. In the time it took him to portkey in, and get a car, and start to her, he felt like things were out of his hands, out of control. And he hated it.
His wife was grieving and he could not help. This world, this unknown enemy, had hurt his wife and there was no way to strike back, no way to stop it, no way to help, save to be there for her. A growl came from deep in his stomach, and burst out of him, almost a roar as it did so, and his hands clutched the steering wheel with such intensity that it almost twisted in his hands.
And he drove, finally sliding to a stop at the school and bounding out in a hop that nearly cleared the entire space to the doors from where he had parked at the curb.
He hurried forward.